Time for a Change
by CrystallicSky
Summary: What if the monks hadn't won the Showdown and fixed everything that'd gone wrong? CHACK, ONESHOT, 'TIME AFTER TIME' AU


**Time for a Change**

**By: CrystallicSky**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown or any of its characters, nor do I make any profit or attempt to with the writing of this or any of my other pieces.**

**Warnings: Bad language, sexual implications, slight gore, homosexuality, etc.**

**-.-.-.-.-.-**

Jack breathed deeply and did his level best to focus and to think.

Normally, this task would be simple: he had learned quite a lot from the Xiaolin monks over the years, meditation practices included. It should've been simple to center himself like he'd been taught, clearing his mind of all distractions and finding his inner peace.

It seemed much harder to meditate when your world had been turned completely on its ear.

Things had been so pleasant before. He had lived a simple life of Good with the monks, his _friends._ Sure, it wasn't perfect: there was the constant threat of Heylin looming over all of them, threatening to overtake them at any time, but what _was_ perfect, anyways? Perfect was just a word meant to describe something that _nothing_ was, so who needed it? All of them were together: Clay, Kimiko, Raimundo…and of course, Chase.

Whether or not Jack admitted it to himself, Chase was one of the main reasons he'd stayed with the monks. Chase was…had always been such a beautiful man and not just physically. He was a beautiful _person,_ in deed and in virtue and Jack was drawn to that like a magnet. Chase was so steadfast in his beliefs and sense of duty that it inspired the younger man, made him want to be a better person if just to hold a single birthday candle to the Olympic torch that was Chase's Goodness.

Jack supposed that torch had been extinguished, now. But, no, that wasn't right, for the torch hadn't been put out altogether: it just burned for a different reason, now, no longer for truth and justice and other such ideals.

Chase's sacrifice had been ultimate, certainly. He had already met and passed his test centuries ago. He had lost one of his dearest friends to the monster that had failed to buy his soul and had lived with that agony for far too long, only able to take comfort in the fact that _he_ had chosen the right path and remained Xiaolin.

Then, this time-fiasco had happened and Chase had been made to give up even that solace, sacrificing his body and soul to Bean so that the rest of the monks would have a chance at victory; at righting the wrongs Omi had accidentally done to keep them from ever happening.

It hadn't helped in the end. The Heylin had ultimately won the day and the original frozen Omi had been destroyed, just in case. With him had gone any hope of returning things to the way they had been in some alternate universe, the way they were _supposed_ to be.

The monks, of course, had retreated back to their farm to lick their wounds and marshal their forces for what they told themselves would be a comeback, but they already knew the truth. The balance of Good and Evil, already unfairly tipped, had just had a brick dropped onto the Heylin side of the scale and the Xiaolin side was high and dry up in the air.

There was no way they could ever prevail, not now.

Jack wondered briefly if they'd noticed he wasn't with them when they'd fled. He hoped so: he'd come to like the monks in his time spent with them and after all that had happened, he hoped that they'd at least spared him a thought and honored his memory with a prayer or something.

Surely, Jack warranted that much. He had done his part to save his friends, following in Chase's example of self-sacrifice and luring the vicious jungle cats away to give them a better chance at success. Even later, once he'd lost the feline beasts, his natural clumsiness had proven beneficial, causing him to stall the Heylin long enough for Rai to take the Eye of Dashi and gain a temporary upper hand.

It was a comfort to Jack, no matter how unlikely it was, to think now that, as they'd fled desperately upon Dojo, one of the monks had said something to the effect of, "Where's Jack?" and another had solemnly answered "He died so we could escape."

Of course, Jack wasn't dead, but they wouldn't know that. They would, of course, assume death was the case being that they'd left him in a citadel with four very, very Evil people. Hell, Jack _himself_ had been certain he was going to die when he found himself encircled by Bean and Wuya and Guan, all of them grinning black and horrible grins that promised nothing but the worst sorts of pain and suffering.

Then…Chase.

Jack couldn't imagine now where Chase had found the nerve, so _new_ a Heylin initiate, to roar and snarl hateful things at his would-be tormentors, demanding that Jack be given over to _him._ Surprisingly, the three more seasoned Evils had allowed it. Jack would be his gift, they'd said to Chase, a complimentary fruit-basket for finally getting with the program.

The dragonman had wasted no time in pulling the terrified Jack away to some secluded room or other, sealing the door shut and giving the youth a weighty stare.

There had been hope for a bit that the Lao Máng Lóng had only changed Chase's body; that he was still the same Chase Young inside and only _looked_ Heylin.

That hope was short-lived as Jack was thrown down onto the floor and pinned there firmly. When asked what he was doing, Chase said only, "Something I foolishly refused as a monk," before making his intentions known.

Jack wasn't entirely sure what to make of things right now. He was thoroughly sore, inside and out, and his plain clothing lie shredded on the floor. He was exhausted, but he couldn't sleep and neither could he make himself think despite how badly he wanted to. Chase was still with him, curled tightly around his body as if to protect him from whatever Evils might be present.

Well…whatever _other_ Evils might be present, anyways.

Jack sighed quietly and laid his head upon Chase's flank, feeling the hard muscles beneath the smooth scales twitch with the occasional, slight movement.

"This is…weird," he said eventually.

"Did you not enjoy yourself?" Chase demanded, frowning at the youth he had not long ago rutted. He had been rough, yes; of _course_ he had, roughness was in his nature, now, but that didn't mean he hadn't _tried_ to make it good for Jack.

"I…I did like it," Jack admitted, "but I've always liked you. You knew that. I just…I guess I never thought…"

"There is one thing I enjoy about being Heylin, so far," Chase informed, "and it is the lack of inhibition. I knew you wanted me even when the both of us were monks. I did nothing about it because monks aren't meant to love _anyone,_ at least not physically. No longer having to consider such silly rules…" The dragon eyed Jack coolly. "It is more freeing than I'd realized."

Some part of Jack cried out at that. No, it said, _you're_ not supposed to break rules! You're perfect! But, then, had he not only moments ago decided that perfect was just a word? That _nothing_ could be perfect?

Another, much larger part of Jack felt as much; _wanted_ Chase to keep breaking the 'rules' because it meant that Chase was no longer holding him at arm's length out of some sense of tradition or duty or whatever the case may be.

The dissonance between what he knew to be right and what he wanted instead made Jack uncomfortable. Chase being Heylin shouldn't mean anything: Jack should still be Xiaolin and stick to the commitment he'd made to all things good and true.

It was _wrong_ to like it that Chase was Evil; _wrong_ to be glad of the sacrifice he'd made and to selfishly benefit from it.

Restless, Jack stood, removing himself from the coil of dragon wrapped around him.

Chase watched with blank, golden eyes as the young man slowly paced about the room, his brilliant mind clearly in overdrive. He noted the claw-marks he'd left on Jack's hips, the blood already having dried and caked onto the soft, white flesh.

Mere hours ago, Chase would have been consumed by guilt for inflicting what were surely uncomfortable marks. Jack would be unable to wear anything with a waistband for _weeks_ and it was _his_ fault.

Currently, however, he only felt pride in the sight of those marks, for _he_ had put them there. _He_ had fucked Spicer into a crying, screaming, blissful orgasm and now the youth belonged to _him_ and him alone. Already, Chase felt lust stirring within him anew, encouraging him to latch onto those slender little hips and reopen those cuts, to glut himself on the sensual ecstasy that was Jack's shapely body and tight rump.

Prudently, he glanced away from the nude young man. As much as _he_ wanted to fuck, he felt no desire to rape Jack, which he would almost certainly be doing should he try to have sex with him while he was so obviously distressed.

Jack eventually stopped pacing, propping himself up against a wall. A hand came up to his face, rubbing vigorously before simply resting over his eyes. "What now?" he soon asked aloud.

"What do you mean, 'what now'?" Chase inquired, his tone aloof. He was really _so_ much different than the warm and caring Xiaolin man Jack had grown to love, and _yet…_

"What happens now?" Jack insisted, something desperate about the need to know in his tone. "Kim and Rai and Clay left me here. You're Heylin. The others _gave_ me to you. What does it _mean?"_

"What if I said it meant nothing?" Chase wondered. "If the choice was yours, what would you do now?"

_"Is_ it mine?" Jack asked.

"Pretend it is."

Jack sighed heavily and considered it. Jesus…what _could_ be done at this point? The obvious answer was nothing: technically, he was owned by the Heylin, by Chase specifically and it had been so from the moment the monks had left him behind. He was smart enough to know that Evil was not a side big on give-backs, and the chances that he would ever be relinquished back to the Xiaolin were _just_ greater than impossible.

Still, Jack did as Chase had asked and pretended that the choice was his; that he could do absolutely anything he wanted.

"Well…" he said after a long moment, "I could go back to the monks. I could tell them that you were keeping me prisoner here but that I escaped and came right back to them. I could help them again and we'd fight the good fight against you and the others."

"Would you?" Chase wondered.

"No," Jack quickly denied. "They…they _left_ me here. They abandoned me. We were friends and I'd done so much to help them, only for them to turn tail and run to save themselves without even _trying_ to come back for me."

"The price of heroism," Chase mused sardonically.

"Even _if_ they'd tried," Jack delegated, "I still don't think I could go back. Not after…not after everything that's happened. We were losing before; now, it'd be a little like a fight between a hacksaw and a piece of balsa wood."

There was more that the young man failed to say aloud, that he wasn't sure he'd be _able_ to fight against the Heylin now that Chase, his beloved, as-close-to-perfect-as-possible idol was among them. It could very well break him to have to fight Chase, and Jack feared he couldn't even risk it.

He didn't have to say it: Chase had already guessed as much.

"If not the monks, then, where would you go?" the dragon asked.

"…home?" Jack halfheartedly guessed. "I could try and patch things up with mom and dad…go into the family business like they always wanted. Just…_live."_

"And would you?" Chase inquired again.

"No," Jack again denied. "I can't live a normal life, now. I've seen too much, been _part_ of too much to go back to being a normal person."

"Then what?" Chase pressed. "If you can't go anywhere else, what will you do?"

A frown creased the youth's features and he was quiet for a long time. He pulled away from the wall he leaned on and gravitated naturally back to Chase. Jack settled himself back with the dragon on the floor, unconsciously reveling in the feel of those cool scales pressed up against his skin.

"I could stay here," Jack admitted. "I could…be yours for whatever you want me for." The bashful pause in the middle of his sentence was enough to indicate that he knew precisely what Chase would want him for. "I could learn to get used to the idea of Evil…maybe even learn to _be_ Evil, myself. After all, everybody has the capacity to do bad things: it's practically second nature to humans. I could probably do it, too. I could stay here and be Evil with you and…and…"

"And what?"

"Play it by ear?" Jack guessed. "I don't know, really. This is still…weird… I don't think anybody can say for sure what's gonna happen. Best I can do is guess at it and go from there."

"Mmm," the dragon hummed quietly. "And _would_ you stay?"

"If the choice was mine?"

"If the choice was yours."

"…yes," Jack decided eventually. "I would stay."

It went unsaid _why_ he would stay: that the thought of abandoning the ideals Chase had taught him to hold dear was eons less painful than abandoning Chase himself, even if it wasn't quite the same Chase anymore.

Of course, it didn't _need_ to be said, for Chase already knew it.

"The choice _isn't_ yours," the dragon firmly declared, "but the outcome will be the same as if it were. You are mine, anyways, so it is the most fitting that you remain here."

Jack nodded once in acknowledgement of this fact and again laid his head upon the scaled beast that lay claim to his life. He felt a claw tangling in his hair and he shivered as razor-sharp talons caressed his scalp.

"You still look Xiaolin," Chase murmured to him, playing with his long, red locks. "May I…?"

Jack was surprised he'd been asked permission, but he quickly gave it. The length of his hair, just like his shredded clothing over in the corner of the room, was merely one more memory of what had been that he didn't need.

Chase gathered Jack's hair in one of his menacing paws, easily shearing the pretty tresses off with the other and proceeding to inspect the youth. He looked better with shorter hair, Chase decided: it showed off more of his face and gave those large and lovely eyes of his more room to garner attention.

"Better," he purred aloud, "much better…"

Jack smiled, pleased far too much for the simple fact that Chase had said something nice to him. In that one, insignificant moment, he subconsciously knew that this had been _meant_ to happen. He _knew_ that he was meant to belong to Chase, no matter what his orientation on the spectrum of Good and Evil.

Everything was upside down. Black was white and white was black, right was wrong and wrong was right. It was all strange and unfamiliar, something that would take a _long_ time to get used to.

Ultimately, though, Jack was certain he would adapt. Despite how crazy and out of place everything else seemed, Jack had Chase now; a reliable constant in a sea of unpredictable variables.

It wasn't perfect, no, but nothing was.

"We shall have to find you some more suitable clothing if you are to be Heylin," Chase hummed quietly. "I am certain you would look lovely in black."

Jack nestled closer against the other male, happy to press his naked body up against the dragon's as near as he could get. "Whatever you say, Chase," he promised.

**-.-.-.-.-.-**

**A/N: Hey, look: a random plotbunny that smacked me in the face in the middle of the night, demanding I write it! XD**

**Anyways, in case it wasn't already obvious, this whole fic is based off of the last episode of Xiaolin Showdown, Time After Time Pt. 2.**

**I wanted to explore a 'What If?' scenario, in this case, "What might've happened if the monks hadn't won the Showdown and set everything right?"**

**Hopefully, I've addressed that question well. :)**

**In any case, thanks for reading and I hope you liked the fic! :D**


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